Dark Genesis

Chapter 1: The Trap by the Window

The afternoon sun baked the back of my neck, and the breeze slipping through the window hummed a lullaby I couldn't resist. I hadn't intended to sleep, but my eyelids grew heavy, gravity winning the war against my will. Before I knew it, the world faded to black right there in the back row.

When my eyes finally fluttered open, the room had fallen into a heavy silence. Empty desks sat in rows like gravestones, sunlight stretched lazily across the floorboards, and the only sound was the hollow echo of distant footsteps in the hall.

"Hey. Wake up already. You've been out cold this whole time." The voice grated against my ears.

I peeled my face off the desk, groggy and disoriented, to find George looming over me. He dropped my bag onto the wood with a deliberate thud that vibrated right through my skull.

I yawned, cracking my knuckles as I stretched my arms toward the ceiling. "What the... I didn't even realize I slept through the whole afternoon. Man, it's too easy to fall asleep here. The breeze, the corner seat by the window-it's practically a trap."

George snorted, shaking his head. "You're impossible."

George and I had been joined at the hip since our first year of high school. He was the definition of forceful extroversion-the type who just walked up to strangers, decided they were friends, and that was that. With shock-orange hair that made him a beacon in any crowd and sharp emerald eyes that always seemed to be plotting something, he was impossible to ignore. For a fifteen-year-old, he was built average-not scrawny, not buff. Just George.

"You planning on standing up anytime soon, or should I leave you here to rot?" he asked, crossing his arms.

"I'm up, I'm up," I grumbled, kicking my chair back and snagging the strap of my bag. "Where are the other two?"

"They had stuff to do. Told me to go on ahead."

I scratched the back of my head, letting out a sigh. "Figures. Alright then, let's go."

We stepped out into the corridor, and the emptiness of the building pressed in on us. The hall stretched out like a tunnel, silent and still.

"What's wrong?" George tilted his head, a mocking grin already tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Don't tell me you're creeped out just because we're the last ones here. Took you forever to wake up, man."

"Tch, don't start," I muttered, waving him off as we rounded the corner toward the stairwell.

And that's when physics turned against me.

A blur of motion-someone sprinting flat out-came barreling down the hall. Before my brain could send a signal to my legs, she crashed into me. *Wham.* The impact wasn't violent enough to break bones, but it sent her reeling backward. She hit the floor hard.

"Whoa-!" My heart hammered against my ribs. "Are you okay?"

The girl winced, sitting up slowly. Chestnut-brown waves spilled over her shoulders, catching the late afternoon light and turning to copper, with faint curls dancing at the ends. For a second, my lungs forgot their job. I just stared.

"Ouch... that really hurt," she murmured, rubbing her temple.

Peripheral vision caught George. His face was already contorting, fighting a losing battle against amusement. He slapped a hand over his mouth, shoulders shaking, the glint in his eyes betraying him completely.

"You're in trouble now," he choked out, snickering. Then his expression shifted into a mask of theatrical urgency. He clamped a heavy hand onto my shoulder, leaning in close like he was delivering a deathbed confession. "Listen, Kil... I know we're friends and all, but you understand, right? My jackpot's about to hit-I can't hold it in! My stomach's killing me!"